Prodigal Son
by TranquillityofPassion
Summary: Don gets a scary flashback that seems to make him re-evaluate his relationship with his brother.


**Amazingly enough, not only have I written a Numb3rs fic (which I wanted to do for a long time) but I also made one with a plot that I actually don't like (!) I just had this crazy idea in my head if an ... well, analogy :)**

**The point of it is to present two sequences of action, one 17 years ago and one, in the present.**

**The theme is a sensitive one and I believe you will soon enough realize what it is (still, I don't want to spoil it for you just yet).**

**The one-shot is **

"So," Don required, brushing through some files on his desk, "What do we have on the guy?"

"Not much." Colby muttered disappointedly, "Guy was part of an anti-government group in his teens, he's done a few years on a federal prison but other than that, he's been clean since the 90's." he further explained.

"Not to mention he has an alibi for the night of the murder." Megan stepped in, "A dozen witnesses saw him in a bar in California." She continued, reading from a file she held on her hands.

"It's a little hard committing a crime when you're twenty miles away." Colby commented sneeringly.

"Man, it might not even be a homicide." David opposed, "It sure looks like a suicide to me." He added thoughtfully.

"Then we're back to square one." Don concluded unhappily.

Colby cleared his throat.

"What?" Don asked upon seeing his action.

"Well," Colby pondered in response, "Maybe the Whiz Kid could help us with this." he suggested casually.

"No." Don replied firmly.

"Is there a problem?" Colby required, confused as much as startled by his boss' reaction.

"Charlie's not working on this one, is that clear?" he shot back angrily, stepping out of the room hastily.

"What the hell was that about?" Colby wondered as Don shut the door behind him forcefully.

"I don't know, Granger." Megan sighed, "I don't know."

As Don bumped the door of his car vehemently, he let out a heavy sigh.

Regretting snapping on his team, he tried to calm himself down.

Once he decided that his blood pressure was relatively close to normal and the death grip on the wheel has loosened up a little bit, he started the car engine, heading home.

After a long shower and a few beers, Don came to the rather surprising realization that he hasn't actually seen his brother for quite a while.

At that moment, an unexplained and unreasonable feeling of dread cursed through him.

_Get yourself together, Eppes_, he ordered himself, _you haven't seen Charlie all week because he was in that astrophysics conference in San Diego._

Still, as if his body was having different thoughts than his mind, he unconsciously reached for his phone, making a gesture to call him.

After waiting patiently on the phone for a response, he found himself fearful once again, when no one seemed eager to be on the other side of the line.

Exaggerating or not, Don was on an irrational yet high alert by now and his unfounded trepidation was driving him crazy.

Doing what he always did when he realized that acting was better than thinking, he quickly grabbed his car keys and headed for his vehicle again.

While driving, he found himself getting dragged in an unwelcoming déjà vu.

_17 years ago_

"Yes, Dad." Don repeated patiently, "I'll be there by five, don't worry about it."

"Thanks Donnie." Alan replied, the relief evident on his voice, "Your mother and I really need to be going and I don't want to leave Charlie alone at the house."

Don sighed.

_Charlie._

_13 years old and already on his first year of college._

"Dad," he exhaled, failing to hide his frustration this time, "Charlie can take care of himself, you don't need to be hovering over him all the time."

"It's not that." His father's voice trailed off as something was obviously bothering him.

"What is it?" Don required cautiously.

"I think there's something wrong with your brother." Alan finally said.

"What's wrong with him?" he demanded, suddenly on alert.

"I don't know, Donnie." His father replied unhappily, "He's been acting … weird, lately." He made a short pause, "He's becoming increasingly detached."

Don tried hard to suppress a snort at his father's last statement.

"Dad," he commented amusingly, any previous anxiety long gone, "Charlie's _always _detached."

"It's not like the other times." his father insisted.

But he ignored him.

Don's mind snapped back to reality rather abruptly as he found himself at Charlie's house.

Apparently, he had reached his destination mechanically and with that apprehension, he stepped out of his car.

As he went closer to the Craftsman's house, another trip down the memory lane found its way.

_Flashback_

Don was getting out of his newly-bought car, a gift for his recent graduation when his cell phone rang.

"Hey, dad."

"Hey, Donnie." Alan's voice trailed off, "You're at the house, right?" he hesitantly assumed.

"I just got here." Don replied casually, locking the car and putting the keys on his front pocket.

"What?" his father yelped, "You said you'd be there four hours ago!" he exclaimed in surprise.

"Yeah well," Don replied, "I ran up to some friends from high school and got a little sidetracked." He explained offhandedly, "I'm here now."

Alan sighed heavily on the other side of the line.

"Alright son," he finally said, "Call me if anything happens, we'll be back by tomorrow morning." And with that, he ended the call.

_Present Day_

Don opened the house's door with his spare key and carefully walked inside the living room.

"Hey Chuck, where are you?" he called out loudly, looking around the house, "I've come to steal whatever dad's been cooking for the day." He continued, seemingly carelessly.

But when he received nothing as a response, his fear kicked in once again.

_Flashback_

"Come on, Charlie." Don called out as he walked inside the living room, "I've come to baby-sit you." He added mockingly, "Mom and dad seem to think that you're not capable of spending a few hours by yourself so they dragged me in." he continued sarcastically, "Happy about it?"

Don was expecting a response on his comment, but he got none.

Since there was no way Charlie would accept such offense, he mustn't have heard him.

_Ofcourse._

_Since he was practically living in the garage, how could he?_

But to his surprise, the garage was empty.

Don stopped on his tracks, thinking another place his brother could be.

And then, he headed for the backyard.

Passing by the Koi Pond, Don came across a sight that made him freeze on the spot.

His brother, a curly-haired mess with his clothes hanging off his small frame, was standing near the edge of the roof, looking down at the ground, seemingly unaware of his brother's astonished presence.

"Charlie?" Don exclaimed as his eyes grew wide and his pulse quickened.

His brother's head snapped up the moment he heard Don's voice, his expression confused at first but then; one of pure, untainted panic.

"D-don?" he stuttered as his eyes found his brother's, "Y-you, you s-shouldn't be here, Why are you h-here? You're n-never here." Charlie's voice was thick with confusion, "This is wrong." He suddenly whispered, "You have to leave."

"Excuse me?" Don demanded the moment he found his voice again, "I'm not going anywhere, Charlie. What do you think you're doing?"

"I've estimated," Charlie began, his eyes wandering across the surface of the roof as if measuring it, "that if a person jumps from this spot to the ground, there is an 85 percent of success."

Don felt himself getting sick.

How could his brother use the word "success" for something like this?

He was trying to find the right words to say when Charlie moved a little closer to the roof's edge.

"Charlie!" Don gasped at his action, "Don't do this."

The panic was overwhelming.

"Please," he was now pleading, "you need to come down from there, buddy."

"Why?" Charlie demanded darkly, "Do you even care?"

Don froze.

"Of course I do." He whispered, looking at his little brother disbelievingly.

Charlie lowered his head.

"I called you, you know." He said softly, "You ignored me."

"I was busy." Don lied.

"Yeah." Charlie uttered acrimoniously.

"Look Charlie," Don decided to change tactics, "I know we have some problems that need to be worked out," his voice trailed off, "but I love you buddy and I won't be able to handle it if you die." His voice was thick with emotions by now and he felt the tears in his eyes, barely at bay.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze in their respective positions before Charlie whispered, in such soft voice that was barely heard:

"Really?" his voice was a mixture of hope and disbelief, "You never told me."

"Oh, Charlie…" Don grimaced, his voice breaking, "I'm so sorry."

Now tears ran freely down his face as he realized a fundamental mistake he's been making all those years; Charlie's always been an emotional child and Don's rejection must have cost him a lot. Only now Don could realize the full extend of damage his demeanor could have brought.

"Don?" Charlie's voice brought him back from his thoughts, "I c-can't do this," his voice seemed to be taking on a panicking note, his lower lip quivered as he looked down at his brother, "I c-can't leave, I can't …"

"You don't have to, Charlie." Don told him sternly, "Just let me get you down, ok?"

"You won't tell mom and dad, right?" he asked fearfully.

"No, I won't." Don agreed hurriedly, "I won't tell anybody." His breathing was harsh; he wasn't sure what he was saying anymore, "Just let me help you, all right?"

Charlie nodded his head slightly.

Having taken the permission he needed, Don looked around him for a portable stairway. Once he found it, he placed it on the edge of the roof and then, steadily ascended to where Charlie was standing.

Holding him firmly by his hand, they reached the ground almost simultaneously.

The moment his feet touched the soil, Charlie wrapped himself around his waist and started crying.

As he held him tightly in his arms, he felt the tremors run through his small body.

"I'm so sorry, buddy." Don whispered while burying his face on the mass of curls, "I love you."

_Present_

Don was surprised, feeling the moisture on his face, his eyes bearing new, unshed tears.

Wiping them away, he didn't manage to prevent a small, almost incoherent sob.

"Don?"

Don bolted straight up, confused to be hearing his name.

"What are you doing here?" Charlie required in an equally confused manner, "I thought you were coming by tomorrow morning for branch." He made a short pause, "Dad's in Oakland, you know that?"

Don slowly turned to face his brother.

"I know." He agreed, "I just wanted to see you." He added softly.

"Oh." Charlie uttered, "I'm glad to hear it, I guess."

"So, where were you before?" Don suddenly asked, successfully changing the subject, "I couldn't find you in the house."

"I was on the rooftop." Charlie explained and at the suddenly horrified expression on his brother's face, he quickly added; "fixing the cable … are you sure you're alright?" he asked, concern plainly written on his face.

Don smiled wearily.

"Yeah buddy, I'm fine." he said, "I just got a little shaken up by a case." He added absently.

"Well," Charlie pondered, "There's basket on the fridge."

"Dad made it?" Don required.

"Just before he left." Charlie confirmed.

"Sounds good." Don commented playfully, placing a hand on Charlie's shoulder; "You think there is a game on TV?"

**P.S The word _analogy is being used in the title as in its "greek" meaning, which is the one of "alegory"._**

_The end_

_16 October 2010_

_Natasa S._


End file.
